


The Ripple Effect

by RadScavver



Series: The Sole Survivor [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Gen, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 07:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18278978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadScavver/pseuds/RadScavver
Summary: The little things can have the largest impact.





	The Ripple Effect

She breathes deep, heart pounding, as she steps up to the microphone. It’s been so long since she was before a crowd. Nate is in the front row, a smile bright enough to blind the sun on his face even as some of his war buddies rib him for it. His eyes meet hers; everything seems so much easier when she can see that spark in him.

Her shoulders pull back and her spine straightens. The simple blue sundress she chose feels more like the slinky velvet of a lounge singer’s best. The gentle murmurs of the crowd fade as her hands lift to cup the mic. Lips, painted and pristine, part around a breathe and her performance begins-

 

“Hey, boss, you with me?”

Her head jerks, her power armor only giving a slight lean despite her surprise. She can’t help but be thankful for the suit’s somewhat awful agility.

“Fine, Mac,” she sighs, her voice garbled through the broken modulator in her helmet, “just...feeling nostalgic.”

The sniper raises a brow, looking toward Magnolia’s stage once more then back at the armored figure towering beside him. Agitated, she shoves away from the bar. Whitechapel Charlie blusters after her, but she ignores it as she marches purposefully out of the Third Rail. She didn’t have time to wallow in the past. Especially not when Shaun is still out there somewhere.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Mac, how ya been?” Hancock greets lazily. He’s sprawled along a battered  old couch, riding a Mentats high, and MacCready flops down roughly on a nearby armchair. “Whoa, soomeone’s pissy.”

“Yeah, the boss,” MacCready spits, arms crossing sharply over his chest.

“Big and shiny sure, but they ain’t one for being bitchy.”

“Something pissed them off in Goodneighbor. They’ve been in a snit ever since.”

“The hell happened?”

“Nothing! We hit the Third Rail for a drink and Boss just….I don’t even know. I asked them if they were good and off they went.”

“Hmm…”

Hancock lays back, staring up at the cobbled ceiling. Now, he was not a stupid man, nor did he become a stupid ghoul. The helpful buzz of Mentats gave him a little more than a slightly clearer thought process. But, to be honest, he didn’t even need help to realise the Vaultie was probably having some homesickness issues.

“Do you remember anything weird when they were doing ‘whatever?’”

MacCready thinks for a moment before saying, “Boss was staring at the stage, but Mags wasn’t even singing.”

Hancock mulls that over curiously. The Vaultie hasn’t been seen in anything but their various power armor sets. He knows a few people, like Preston and Deacon, have actually seen them outside the protective shell. They’ve never given any information on them to anyone, though. Unable to help himself, Hancock wonders if Vaultie was remembering an old haunt with the buddies…or missing an old career.


End file.
